


young dumb and broke

by glitteration



Category: The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Cunnilingus, F/M, Frottage, M/M, Multi, Recreational Drug Use, Semi-Public Sex, This is pretty extra, Threesome - F/M/M, Unsafe Sex, just acres of feels, mason lockwood was in love with jenna i will fight people, sex while high, there is so much oral in this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-07
Updated: 2018-04-08
Packaged: 2019-04-19 14:11:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14238987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glitteration/pseuds/glitteration
Summary: For all he’s always been Grayson’s annoying brother and the snitty jerk ostentatiously not socializing at family parties, John’s proving to be really good at the ill-advised public threesome thing.Entirely plot-free smut starring my three favorite members of Team Adult v TVD before they were adults, yo-freaking-lo.





	1. i'm so high at the moment

**Author's Note:**

> AIMEE AND CAITLIN, THIS IS FOR YOU

A high school party was not exactly how Jenna planned to spend her night, but beggars can’t be choosers when the beggar in question’s ex-boyfriend is a cheating scumbag of the serial variety.

“Fucking Logan.” Her can of beer went flat half an hour ago and it was _never_ cold, so she takes another long sip mostly to enjoy piling misery on top of misery. Shitty beer, no boyfriend, and a bunch of sixteen year olds running around. Maybe home and mom’s judgemental face would have been better.

“Give me that.” Mason’s hand sneaks in from over her shoulder and snatches the beer, tossing it casually over towards the picnic table and missing by a mile. “Beer is not what you need tonight, Jen.”

“Really?” If it had been a single other person but Mason they’d be nursing a bruised shin. As it is, Jenna crosses her arms over her chest and stares up at him impatiently. “And what do I need?”

He pulls a plastic bag and a lighter out of his pocket, dangling them in mid-air. “I drove two hours to go get this, now say thank you and smoke ‘em while I got ‘em.”

“You threw my beer, I’m not going to thank you for the required by basic manners replacement.”

Mason grins. “Try it first, then you can thank me. Here, I’ll light.”

“I’m not going to thank you.” The first hit feels like getting hit in the face with a sledgehammer, and Jenna finds herself struggling not to cough like the first time Mason got her stoned. “Okay, I lied, I _am_ going to thank you. Holy shit, Mase, is this hydro or something?”

“It’s ‘I grabbed a couple hundred from dad’s wallet before they left for the beach house and told my guy I’d pay whatever he asked for the best he could find on short notice’.”

After taking another hit, Jenna passes him the joint back and shakes her head, words half-croaked with the effort of not exhaling just yet. “Three cheers for parental negligence and one hit wonders.” Mason’s weed is _always_ better than the mostly shake she keeps in a tin buried at the bottom of her closet, but it usually takes more than two hits to get the good kind of head-tingles that mean she’s about to forget all about Logan. “What’s the special occasion?”

“You dumped the dickhead.”

“So you got me celebratory weed? I feel like I should be offended, but my meter’s stuck on grateful.”

He hands the joint back and shrugs, glancing over at the fire. “Yeah, well, I figured we both could use it.”

“How’s that, exactly?”

“Weed makes you remember why you hate him. Beer makes you weepy, and I swear to god if I have to listen to you cry over that jackass one more time I’m gonna crack his fucking jaw.”

“Beer does not make me weepy.” It absolutely does, and Mason’s right and as much as she loves him sober, in the moment she’s not sure it’s _possible_ to ever love anybody else as much as she loves him.

“Does too. Here, take it, I’m good for now.” After one last hit she stubs the cherry out on the edge of her shoe, leaning against Mason’s side so she can use her free hand to shield it from the wind. “He sucks, Jen, and he doesn’t deserve you.”

“These are both true things.” Straightening and pocketing the rest of the joint, she elbows him gently in the side. “You know who is not a dick, though? You.” He pulls a face, and she laughs. “Don’t make that face. You’re kind of the best, Mason, and not just because your weed is ridiculously good.”

“Yeah, if you say so.” If Logan is second on her shitlist it’s only because Mason’s dad is first, for putting that kind of doubt into his otherwise cocky son.

“I do say so.” Hugging Mason is a little like wrapping her arms around a tree, but he’s been a good half a foot taller since freshman year and started bulking up by the end of the summer after that, so where exactly to tuck into his side doesn’t take thought anymore. He smells like booze and campfire and detergent and sweat, like he always has and always will. Like _home_.

“Guess I worried a little too much about you taking the breakup hard.”

Jenna blinks hard, jaw dropping open. “Logan?” Apparently, assuming he’d have the decency (or at least, the self-preservation) to avoid a party thrown on the Lockwood property was naive, and Jenna feels irritation needle at her through the peaceful rush of her high. “What are you doing here?”

“Well, I’m not having as much fun as you are, clearly.” He raises his bottle in a salute. “Mason.”

Mason stiffens beside her, and Jenna cinches her arm tighter around his waist, pinching the skin just above his waistband viciously in a warning to let her handle it. “Great. Well, if you want to have a better time you can probably call Chrissy. That was her name this time, right?” Her smile is all teeth and a reminder that between the two of them, there’s only one cheater. “I’m sure she’d be happy to hear from you again. Hey, Mason, let’s go over there. Away from here, because here is where Logan is.”

She tugs him away without waiting for a reply from either of them, around the fire and closer to the trees.

“‘This time’, Jenna?”

“Can it, you.”

Mason crosses his arms over his chest and glares across the clearing at Logan, tense like maybe she really does need to worry about this turning into a fistfight. “I thought you said this was the first time he hooked up with somebody else.”

“No, I let you believe it was the first time because if you get busted for kicking the crap out of him, I won’t have anyone else cool to hang out with.”

“Jenna, tell me you’re not gonna take him back again.”

Something about the intensity in his face is so completely un-Mason it sets her back. He’s always so deliberately _chill_ that the lack feels momentous and for the life of her, she can’t figure out why. Placing a conciliatory hand on his forearm, she squeezes gently. “Fine, I won’t. He’s dead to me, anyway, and you can’t date the dead. There are laws against it.”

This is where she expects him to drop the serious act, to grin and kiss the top of her head and tell her he was only angling for the promise. Mason doesn’t do any of that, just nods like they’ve signed a contract. “Good.” For a moment it looks like he’s going to say something else, but whatever it is he swallows it back. “Listen, I need to go grab a couple more things from the truck. I’ll be back, just… anyway. I’ll be back.”

Jenna watches him head back to where everybody parked with bemusement. “Okay, then.”

“Trouble in paradise?”

“...John.” Grayson’s little brother has always been kind of an asshole, but he’s also family, and there’s the slightest hint of real concern hidden behind the usual ‘I’m too good for this’ thing he’s always doing with his eyebrows. “Trouble yes, paradise emphatically no. I dumped the source of the problem, so the stab at decency is appreciated but I’m fine, I swear. No Logan, no problems.”

Mason would laugh and get it and hum the beginning of Mo Money along with her. John just smirks. “I meant you and Lockwood.”

“... _Mason_? Why would I be having trouble with Mason? And what kind of trouble?”

John laughs outright now, glancing over at the table where Mason is finishing stacking what has to be a hundred cans of beer. “Now, _that_ is certainly an interesting question.”

“Okay, and what’s _that_ supposed to mean?” Infuriatingly, he won’t elaborate even when Jenna jabs an elbow in his side. “Ass.” The back of her neck tingles insistently with the creeping awareness of being watched. “Fine, man of mystery, how about we try a less cryptic answer to this one: is Logan staring?”

“Intently.”

“Okay, then I’m going to need you to flirt with me.”

She’s a little too high to really savor the way John’s face drops into naked surprise. “I’m sorry?”

“I said, flirt with me. If Logan’s going to get all stalker, I’ll give him something to stalk.” Ostentatiously, she runs a hand over his bicep. “Pretend I just said something like ‘oooh, what strong muscles’ and flex, whatever it is ex-jocks do when they flirt.”

“I ran track for two years, Jenna.” His lips twitch. “But fine. I’ve never been one for flexing, so if you don’t mind…” She has to remind herself this is _John_ in front of her when he strokes his thumb over her cheek, hand big enough his fingertips can curl around her jaw. John, who is an asshole, and her brother in law, and someone she has literally never been attracted to. “Something like that is a little more my speed.”

“It’s a good move.” He hasn’t moved his hand and she doesn’t feel like making him do it, not when the neck prickle is a full on attempted stabbing by now. “I bet it works out for you.”

“No complaints yet.”

Finding John Gilbert sexy is a little mind-blowing, and Jenna’s still grappling with the revelation when Logan wraps his hand around her upper arm and yanks her backwards. “How about you take your hands off my girlfriend, Gilbert.”

It takes all of two seconds to go from dazed and vaguely turned on to the usual Logan-specific blend of crappy. “How about _you_ get your hands off me before I knee you in the balls like you deserve?”

He drops her arm like she’s scalded him. “Come on, Jenna, it was a stupid mistake. You’re really gonna use him to get back at me, in front of everybody?”

“I’m gonna need you to get the hell off my property in the next thirty seconds, Fell.” The tension ratchets higher when Mason pushes his way through the growing crowd of gawkers and steps between her and Logan, rolling his shoulders like a boxer warming up. Anger radiates off him in waves, and even though Jenna knows he’s no taller than he was five minutes ago he feels like he’s expanded to swallow up all the air around them.

“And if I don’t?” Logan had sounded annoyed by John, but there’s open loathing in his face when he tilts his chin and challenges Mason.

“Then I’ll beat the shit out of you before I drive you out and dump you just past the line myself.”

He sounds like he means it. Placing a calming hand on the small of his back, Jenna shifts so she can take in Logan’s whitening face. “You should probably listen to him.”

“Jenna, I’m sor—”

“All right, man, I gave you a shot.” Mason rolls up his sleeves with what Jenna should _probably_ see as an inappropriate amount of glee, but the way Logan starts to slowly back away is too good not to enjoy. “I’ve been wanting to do this for years.”

“Maybe I cheated on you, Jen, but with this shit can you blame me? It sucks when your girlfriend’s constantly up some other guy’s ass.” Mason makes a sound right off Animal Planet and takes eats up half the ground between them in three steps. Logan blanches, scrambling backward. “You’re a psycho, Lockwood. You know what, I hope you two are real fuckin’ happy together.”

Mason watches him flee to his car like he’s a dog about to yank past the edge of a leash, and Jenna grabs the edge of his sleeve once Logan’s taillights are around the bend and out of sight and he’s still staring after him like he can see through the trees. “Hey, tough guy. You in there?”

He blinks and shakes himself. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m good.” His lips twitch. “Man, I wish somebody had a camcorder around for that. He nearly crapped his pants.”

“You were my very terrifying hero, Mase.” Jenna simpers, fluttering her lashes like Kelly Donovan trying to work her way out of speeding ticket. “It was so manly I thought I was going to swoon.”

“Funny.” All at once he’s her Mason again, all loose limbs and an easy smile. “Hey, you still got that joint? We could take it down by the bank, I got a blanket in the truck.”

He takes off without waiting for her answer, and Jenna stares after him for a beat too long before belatedly remembering John is still standing and watching them. He’s smirking like they’re the most hilarious thing he’s ever seen, and it takes all her strength not to ask him what the hell is so funny. “Sorry, Logan’s… Logan.”

“Oh, no apologies needed. I’ve always been a fan of live theater.”

“Ass. So, you still smoke, or…”

He wrinkles his nose and she can see the ‘aren’t we a little old for this?’ stoner dig coming, then he glances over at Mason hustling back with the blanket and the smirk is back. “Is the offer to enjoy it closer to the water open?”

“I mean, why not? Hey, Mase, do we have a spot on the blanket for John to party crash and take a few hits?”

She can see the urge to say no pass over his features, but it’s gone too fast to do anything about. “The more the merrier.”


	2. i'm so caught up in this

John is a _shockingly_ relaxed stoner. He’s still John and no amount of THC can blunt the edges he lugs around, but he’s much more tolerable high.

When Jenna tells him so, he laughs. “‘More tolerable’. You seemed to be tolerating me fine earlier when we were making Logan jealous.”

“Well, you were pretty smooth.”

“Oh, that wasn’t smooth.” John’s eyes glint.

There are a million good reasons why this is the perfect moment to pull the ripcord. John is an asshole, and her brother in law, and Mason is shifting uncomfortably three inches from her left knee. It’s better to slam this door shut and deal with wondering what had been behind it another day.

It’s also not even a little bit what she’s going to do.

“Then what _is_ smooth, exactly?” 

John’s a better kisser than Logan. By a _lot_ , and Jenna’s not sure whether she’s more smug about it or disappointed that now she’s going to have to spend the rest of her life with John freaking Gilbert in her top five kisses ever list. He rubs a thumb over her lower lip after, brushing the reddened curve. “That was smooth.”

“Hey, don’t mind me, I’m just sitting _right here_.”

Mason doesn’t _sound_ all that pissed off, but he probably should be. “Sorry, Mase.”

“You don’t seem to have minded it all that much.” John casts a significant glance at Mason’s lap and Jenna helplessly follows it with her own. At first the picture in front of her won’t resolve itself: then reality takes hold of the moment, colliding with expectation and exploding both into a million pieces along with about three-quarters her brain.

Mason is half-hard against his jeans. _Mason_ , who she could have sworn saw her as some weird cross between a sister and a best friend and nothing else.

“...oh.”

Mason flushes, eyes wide and guilty even with all the weed they’ve had. “Jen, I…”

As stupid as kissing John might have been, kissing Mason would be even worse. John’s an asshole and the only times she absolutely has to see him usually involve open bars. Mason is as essential as a limb and just as present in her life, though, and fucking things up with him is unthinkable.

Not kissing him is somehow equally unthinkable. She’s not really high enough to be clumsy, but tossing a leg over his knees so she can kiss him without bending in half is harder than it should be. Mason rests a hand on her hip to keep her upright and that’s all it takes to make this feel normal: Jenna tossing herself out there and Mason standing solidly behind, ready to back her up and keep her steady. Other than the liplock part, they’ve done this all before.

Everything that makes him her best friend makes it better, not worse, and it’s either the pot or the kissing but Jenna’s sure down to her bones she knows how to keep both at once as long as Mason just keeps holding her. The certainty fades a touch when they have to break apart to breathe, but he’s still warm and Mason and grinning at her stupidly and Jenna can’t imagine there’s a world where he won’t always be all those things.

“So, wow.” When she licks her lips Mason’s eyes track the motion, and Jenna’s insides do a proud little shimmy. “That was… wow.”

“I didn’t get a wow.” John’s reclining back against the blanket, watching them shamelessly. 

“You’ll get a wow when you deserve a wow.”

“That sounds like a challenge.”

Jenna quirks a brow at Mason, relying on a language developed by years of practice at causing trouble together. _You in?_

He quirks one of his own back. _Why not?_

“Yeah,” she says slowly, tasting the words on her tongue. “I kind of think it kind of was.”

“Well, then.” Jenna swallows back a surprised yelp when John lunges forward so he can pull her back down to the blanket with him, ass snug up against his erection. “I have a few ideas about what I might be able to do to earn one.” He crooks a finger at Mason, who looks surprised to be included. “If you don’t mind…”

Mason pushes up and knee walks closer, hand coming out to push back the hair falling in Jenna’s face. “Pretty sure I don’t mind much right now.”

John’s hips thrust up a little, and Jenna files the reaction away for later. “Take her shorts off.” 

Jenna inhales sharply. He sounds adult— _commanding_ , and she won’t pretend it’s not worth a shiver. 

Mason seems similarly affected, eyes wide and pupils blown. “I can do that.” Mason pops the top button of her cutoffs then hooks his fingers on the waistband, dragging them down slowly, until she has to lift her hips to help him out. He tosses them aside, then rests his hands chastely on her upper thighs, tentative in a way he’s never been before.

“Get the underwear too.” 

Jenna moans and Mason echoes it, his fingers clutching at her thigh with enough strength to bruise. He looks to her first, making sure she’s all right with John’s orders before following them and Jenna loves him just a little bit more for it. 

“You heard the man, Mase.” She lifts her hips again, feeling a little bit like she’s slipped and fallen into a parallel universe where this is normal, shuddering when the night air hits her bare cunt. It’s deep enough into summer it’ll stay above seventy all night, but Logan convinced her to try waxing after he said he’d pay for it and the lack of hair still feels weird without public indecent exposure entering the picture.

“Holy fuck.” Mason sounds dumbstruck, and he looks at her and then John, unsure of what to do next.

“Well? Eat her out, Lockwood.” John still sounds eerily adult, like a window into the people they’re going to be when they’re way too old to be pulling stunts like this.

“Can I, Jen?” The timbre of his voice makes her heart race. Logan wanted sex a lot, sure, but it was more about sex than her: the serial cheating is evidence enough of that. But Mason looks like he needs her. Like he’s desperate for her, and he’s not sure what to do if she changes her mind.

It feels like the moment to crack a joke and ease them both through this but she just nods, struck dumb by the naked desire on his face.

Laying prone in front of her, Mason licks a messy stripe up her cunt, mouth confident as his hands weren’t. Jenna’s hips start to buck and John holds them down, arm bracketing her lower belly in a snug embrace. Mason grunts out what has to be a thank you, then applies himself to his task with the kind of increased diligence that means all the rumors she heard about Mason’s bedroom habits actually undersold how much he likes giving head.

“Good?” John’s voice is a little raspy from the weed, but pitched loud enough for them both.

Jenna swallows hard. “Better than, if I’m honest.”

“It ought to be, given how long he’s been waiting.”

“What, the thirty whole seconds it took for me to remember how nodding works?”

“ _Tch._ ” John clicks his tongue, dismissive. “Try years.”

“No, that’s…” Jenna breaks off, pieces slowly assembling to form a more complete picture of the friendship she’d never bothered to disassemble and study in detail. “Oh.”

“You really didn’t know you had him on a string.” John sounds like he can’t decide if he likes her better for not knowing, or if he thinks she’s an idiot. “Well, since Mason’s mouth is busy I’ll speak for him. He’s wanted this for years, Jenna.” Reaching down, he ruffles Mason’s hair. “Isn’t that right?” 

The tops of Mason’s ears go fire engine red but Jenna’s pretty sure he nods, redoubling his efforts between her legs like he’s trying to drive her insane before John can spill any of his other secrets. John takes pity on him, ruffling his hair one more time before resting it on the back of his neck and returning his attention to Jenna. He snakes a hand under her shirt and bikini top to roll her nipple between his fingers, calluses catching a little on the sensitive skin.

Between the two of them and the weed, Jenna’s starting to feel a little like she’s living underwater in the best way possible. Mason keeps making these soft grunting animal noises between her legs, inhaling in huge breaths that are way too much like his eating a great fresh baked pie sounds _not_ to make her laugh. He looks up, confusion and a hint of fear in his eyes, and Jenna reaches down on instinct to pat his face, smearing her own slick across his cheekbone.

“You were making pie noises, and I’m a little too high right now to not find that funny.”

After a split-second of shock Mason laughs, and behind her John shakes his head, despairing of them both. “You know, Lockwood, if she’s that easily distracted I can always take over and show you how it’s done…”

Mason _growls_ at that, humor forgotten as his hands clutch her thighs possessively and he dives back in, nosing at her clit before taking it delicately between his lips and sucking, harder and harder until Jenna’s not even sure what pie is anymore, because all that exists is the way it feels to be stuck between John and Mason and how much she desperately needs to come, like _right now_.

She must have said the words out loud, because John chuckles. “I think you’d better listen to her.”

Mason does. As fast as it comes on, her orgasm is less a shock and more a switch being flipped, lighting her up from the inside out. Everything seems at once louder and dulled: the sound of the creek, the cicadas, the noise of the party, John’s harsh breathing behind her and the clutch of Mason’s hands on her thighs, jabbing blue-black points of contact into her summer tan. 

She twitches helplessly as Mason refuses to let up, heart pounding in her chest, and it’s John who finally pulls him up and away. 

“Come here.” He yanks Mason up, fisting a hand in his collar and dragging him close so he can kiss him, enjoying the remnants of Jenna on his mouth rather than wiping them away first. From her vantage point of two whole inches away from the action, Jenna can hear the way John’s stubble catches and releases on Mason’s own, and the soft sound of their tongues sliding against each other.

It’s like the best porn the world has to offer, and Jenna sighs happily. “I have literally dreamed about this. You guys should make out and let me watch all the time.” 

Mason turns his face away from the kiss so he can frown at her, ignoring John’s disapproving little sigh. “...Seriously, Jen, what the hell. Me and John?”

“Tell me you’ve never thought about me and Kelly and you can keep bitching.”

He pauses, head tilted in thought. “...you know, that’s fair.”

John derails any further conversation by cutting in and distracting them both. “If the making out appeals that much, Jenna, I can only imagine your response when I suck him off.”

For all he’s always been Grayson’s annoying brother and the snitty jerk ostentatiously not socializing at family parties, John’s proving to be really good at the ill-advised public threesome thing. He’s like a cruise director, but for ill-advised sex.

“ _Fuck_.” Mason’s eyes are dark in his face, and he nearly topples over moving backwards and trying to undo his fly at once. “You mean it?”

John helps Jenna climb out of his lap and palms Mason’s cock. “Entirely.”

Mason looks dumbstruck as John casually pushes him exactly where he’d like him and then follows Mason’s body with his own, hips bracketed by Mason’s calves. He wraps a hand around Mason’s cock this time, skin looking nearly as tanned as Jenna’s next to the never seen the sun white of Mason’s inner thighs. 

Jenna scoots closer so she can rest her head on his side and watch John work. She’d never thought this far into the fantasy; the gay porn Kelly keeps in a box labeled _HOME MOVIES, STAY OUT_ is less interested in the mechanics of a handjob than the main event, and imagining Mason’s dick always felt a little too invasive.

Now’s a perfect time to change that, given where his mouth has been. She studies the way John twists his wrist on the upstroke and thumbs the liquid gathering at the head of Mason’s cock and files it away for later, idly tracing figure eights and hearts on the soft skin just below the jut of Mason’s hipbone. He’s making soft, needy sounds, and Jenna hides her grin against his side before poking John’s shoulder.

“Not that I’m complaining, but I’m pretty sure blowiobs were mentioned.” 

John rolls his eyes. “The impatience of youth.”

“You’re literally three years older than I am, don’t even start.”

Mason coughs, shifting. “She’s not wro— _Jesus fuck, John_.”

Between one breath and the next John takes Mason in his mouth, and Jenna notes with some jealousy he looks much more confident than she feels when she’s giving blowjobs. Maybe it’s because he’s got his own set of the same equipment.

...or maybe not, because Jenna’s pretty sure just having a dick of her own wouldn’t make her that good at deep-throating. Mason sucks in a shocked breath and lifts his wrist to his mouth, biting down on it to keep from crying out and turning this from nearly-public to entirely so.

While he’s distracted, Jenna looks to John. “So, you’ve done this before, huh?” She strokes his cheek where the skin is stretched taut, tracing the line of one tendon to the edge of his mouth. “Maybe I’ll have to get some tips.” John’s nostrils flare and two spots of red burn high above his cheekbones, but the glare he sends her is too filled with lust to be mistaken for anger. Warming to the subject, she grins. “I’m not bad, but you took him right down. Looks like the kind of thing that takes a lot of practice. Maybe next time we can do a step by step, get me up to your speed.”

“Hey, Jenna, can you do me a favor and just… shut up for a second?” Mason clutches at the blanket, head tipped back in something like agony. “If you don’t, I’m pretty sure I’m going to come.”

“I’m not getting the part where that’s a bad thing. John?” The man in question darts a sideways glance at Jenna and redoubles his efforts, free hand sneaking between Mason’s legs to do something that makes him shudder and moan and give truth to his prediction, coming in a rush down John’s throat. He nurses him through it until Mason moans and bats helplessly at his head with graceless hands and pushes him away mostly by accident, too sex-stupid to do much of use for the moment. 

With Mason crumpled bonelessly next to them and apparently down for the count until further notice, John turns to her. “I think it’s time I get that wow out of you.” 


	3. we still got love to give

Jenna wrinkles her nose. As good as this feels, she’s not about to take the unwed mother Russian Roulette challenge with John of all people. “Even if you’re clean, if you think I’m letting you put your dick in me without a condom… well, I’m just not.”

He smiles like she’s just said something he can finally entirely approve of. “Oh, I have another idea. Turn on your side and open your legs for me.”

The casual bossiness really shouldn’t be working for her, but Jenna feels a pulse of new wetness surge between her legs and has to admit it really, really does. Her thighs fall open of their own accord, and she belatedly rolls over on one hip, flushing red.

John’s mouth twists with amusement but he doesn’t tease her, focusing instead on coming to lay behind her, erection prodding insistently at her ass until he reaches down and situates himself, cock tucked firmly between her now closed thighs. “Keep them closed or this won’t work.”

“Dry humping, really? Are we fifteen again?” The battle to sound unimpressed is a losing one, especially when John can feel she’s wet down to the middle of her thighs and her body won’t stay still, already trying to press back against him like the traitor it is.

He huffs out a laugh, sucking a kiss just below the hinge of her jaw. “You want me to stop?”

“If you do, I swear to God I will actually murder you.”

John obliges, fucking the tight space between her thighs with subtle twists of his hips, bringing the head of his cock _this close_ to where the part of her brain not processing higher thought says he belongs. Each nudge of the blunt tip stokes her fire hotter and makes her want to say “fuck it” and take the chance, but she would almost literally rather die than end up a co-parent with her dickhead brother in law.

No matter _how_ unexpectedly good at sex he is.

“ _Fuck_.” John’s breath comes heavy on the back of her neck, and he snakes a shaking hand between her legs to circle her clit with the tip of a finger, cursing when the angle of their bodies means he can’t gain more purchase. “Can you…”

“Come like this? Probably not, but you can.” And the way Mason’s watching her, eyes glinting in the now full dark, says she’s not going to have to wait long.

“Are you sure?”

She likes him a little bit more for waiting, but he’s still _John_. “I’m giving you permission to be your usual self. Go for it, I’m good.”

His hips jolt forward, rubbing against her over and over in a way that isn’t quite enough to push her over the edge with him but still feels incredible. His breathing goes choppy, every muscle tensing and then relaxing in a rush. It’s over too soon, but watching John Gilbert fall apart and knowing she can lord it over him for the rest of their lives is more than worth the slight disappointment.

John leans his forehead on the crown of her head, breathing through the comedown and collecting his armor bit by bit until he’s John again, complete with a slightly impatient tap to her hip when she doesn’t roll away from him without being asked.

“I hope you don’t think you earned that wow.” For lack of anything else to say that isn’t _what the hell just happened_ , Jenna watches him throw his jeans back on with an arched brow. “No mindblowing orgasm, no wow for you.”

He grimaces, but concedes the point. “I haven’t smoked since I was in high school, you’ll have to take an IOU.”

Which implies they might do this _again_ , a thought way too weird to deal with right now. “Yeah, yeah.”

“I trust I don’t need to say we should keep this quiet.”

“Not even a _little_.” Her reputation as Miranda’s screwup party girl sister is already well-cemented, but a public threesome is the kind of thing even family connections to the Founders can’t cover up.

“Good.” Shifting a bit from foot to foot, John nods decisively. “Good, then I'm going to..." He gestures vaguely back at the party, and Jenna can't help but enjoy the entirely novel spectacle that is an awkward John Gilbert. "Lockwood.”

Jenna watches him walk back towards the party with identical bemused expressions, eyes trained on him until he’s out of sight. Then she turns to Mason, finding _his_ gaze locked on her with obvious longing.

The million and a half things Jenna want to say jockey for position, but all that comes out is, “So, this is… a little weird, now.”

Mason’s smile is relieved. “Little bit.”

She nods down at his lap, where he’s _absolutely_ not bothered by the weirdness and still hard from watching her with John. “Want to do something about that?”

He starts shaking his head before she can finish the offer, reaching out to hold her wrist in a gentle grip. “We don’t have to do anything else, Jen.”

If she hadn’t already wanted him, that did it. “I know, but I want to.” Inhaling deeply, she purses her lips and makes a choice. “You should probably fuck me.”

Mason’s eyes widen, and he looks torn. “But you said to John…”

“Yeah, and you’re not John.” Having a baby with Mason wouldn’t be as awful as getting knocked up by somebody she doesn’t even like half the time, but it’s still not on the agenda. “We’re both clean, I’m on the pill, and Miranda will take me over state lines to get a prescription for a morning after pill if I think I need it. I want this, Mase, I promise.” She leans in to kiss him, feeling the kick of his heartbeat thundering away under her hand. “I want you.”

He tackles her back to the blanket with an incredulous laugh, nuzzling into her hair and inhaling deeply. “I was waiting for you to catch up on that one, but I didn’t think…” He breaks off midthought with a gasp when she reaches between them to take hold of his cock and adjusts the angle so he can slide easily inside her.

They still as one, breathing in shaky tandem.

“Okay?” he asks, trembling with the need to move.

“More than.” His ass is taut beneath her hand, and she digs in her nails trying to pull him in close. “Please, Mason, more.”

Sex with John was risky and hot and definitely mindblowing, but it has nothing on the way Mason slowly rolls his hips and sucks desperate kisses into the skin of her neck, murmuring how beautiful she is, how _good_ she feels.

Time slows to encase them both in their own private little bubble, where all that exists is Mason over her and the water and the night air and how something she never knew she wanted turned out to be everything she’d been waiting for.

Mason’s body slides against hers, sweat coating them both and making his skin glint in the dim light like he’s been coated in bits of stars. He groans, low in his chest, and props himself up on one arm so he can reach between them and find her clit with unerring skill, somehow touching her exactly like she’d do herself. “Please, Jen, you gotta…”

The way he needs her too much to bother with sentences shouldn’t be as hot as it is. “Almost there. Harder, okay?”

He speeds up the motion of his hips and his hand at once, and Jenna bites down on his shoulder to keep from yelling. That only seems to spur him on, thrusting into her hard enough the slap of skin on skin sounds gunshot loud in their just-us bubble. Mason babbles encouragement into her hair, only letting himself lose control when she ripples and contracts around him as her orgasm builds and urges his onward. His movements become jerky, breath coming out like a bellows and he whispers something into her hair too low for her to catch.

After, he wraps an arm around her and pulls her close to his side, rolling the sides of the blanket around them until they’re a two-person burrito. They lay like that for a while until the feeling of his come between her legs and the rapidly-drying sweat make her start to itch and she sigs regretfully. “I should probably put my pants back on.”

“Yeah, probably.” Mason doesn’t sound like he enjoys the thought any more than she does, but he stretches to grab them from the ground and hands them to her, quiet in the way that means he’s got something to say and doesn’t know how to get it out, yet. Jenna scrubs between her legs with her panties before shrugging and crumpling them up so she can shove them in a pocket. Better commando at this point, especially since she really doesn’t feel like getting back to the party part of the night.

Once she’s dressed, Mason sighs. “I don’t know how to say this, so I’m just gonna do it. I don’t wanna fuck us up, Jen, and if we dated…” He shakes his head. “You’re forever for me, you know? But I’d fuck it up right now, you know I would.”

The sting of disappointment is brief, subsumed with the reluctant relief that comes from knowing what she wants with him and what she’s ready for are on two different planets for the moment. “No, me too. I get it, Mase.” She grabs his shoulder in a tight grip. “But you’re forever to me too, okay?”

His smile is a little sad, but it’s more genuine for it. “Seal it with a kiss?”

Just like that, the balance swings back to something that doesn’t feel like balancing on eggshells and knowing if a single one breaks, it might cause the kind of change between them that knocks forever out of the running before they’re even ready to try. “Perv.”

“You love me.”

“Forever.”

“Forever,” he echoes.

When they walk back to the truck Mason wraps his arm around her like nothing’s changed at all, and Jenna feels warm down to her toes when she realizes it’s true.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's super obvious what my otp is here, isn't it
> 
> ANYWAY, THANK YOU TO EVERYBODY WHO READ, Y'ALL ARE STARS FOR INDULGING MY FANDOM NOSTALGIA and if you've got any Jenna fic requests drop them in comments, because I fell back into the first two seasons with a vengeance and I'm ready to fill the dearth of Jenna fic out there.


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